The Colors Beneath His Skin
by Ardatli
Summary: The tattoo shop AU you never knew you wanted. Years ago, Nate, Eli, America and Tommy opened 'Patriots' together. Now Nate's moved on and a new piercer - tall, blond, perfect - has taken his place. Billy's nowhere near as cool as his twin brother, and there's no way this new guy would ever be interested in plain old Billy Kaplan. Would he? (no-powers, modern, body-mod-friendly AU)
1. Chapter 1

The Colors Beneath His Skin

Chapter One

"It's six, Billy, get a move on!" Kate's voice cut in over his music. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the top of his computer screen, making it jiggle. He blinked, and the clock blinked 6:00 6:00 6:01 right back at him from below thirty open windows and the slowest file-save progression bar known to man.

"Technology hates me," he said by way of a reply, popping his earbuds out and flopping back in his chair. The loose spring in the back tipped him almost halfway over before he caught himself on the edge of the desk. "This thing is taking forever to render and save." A dozen beeping computers from the other offices on the floor announced quitting time at Bishop Publishing. For everyone except the full intern pen, anyway, a dozen heads down and fingers madly ticking away at keys. Kate sailed through untouched by it all; it wasn't like she needed to toe the line at her dad's company. And he wasn't entirely above abusing some of the perks of having her as a best friend.

Like begging a ride instead of having to fight his way to the train during rush hour.

"Leave it," she said dismissively, leaning over the waist-high divider and stabbing her finger at the power button on his monitor. "It'll finish without you, and if we don't go now, the guys will leave without _us_." She had already changed for the concert, purple minidress and knee-high boots as out of place here as Billy's button-up and chinos would be at the club later on. She set her sunglasses on her nose and poked them up into place, projecting that feeling of effortless cool that took Billy an hour in front of the bathroom mirror and way too many attempts at hair products to even get close to. He gave up most of the time, these days, just let his hair do what it wanted to, and left the high fashion to Kate Bishop.

He stretched and cracked his shoulders, elbows and each knuckle slowly and deliberately, just to stall and see her eyebrow get twitchy. His back ached, sore from hunching over while he stared at a screen all day. 'Layout designer' wasn't exactly a job that came with a lot of non-computer time; not like the old days where you had a cutting table, sheets of paper and a glue stick. His sad, tired physique was already paying the price.

Grabbing his bag got him a couple of dirty looks, but Kessler and his cronies could suck it. Billy got twice their workload done in the same amount of time, and they'd all gotten their internships the same way, anyway - connections and nepotism. Viva la new economy.

"You're not going like that, are you?" Kate asked cheerfully, bumping into him as they jogged down the stairs instead of waiting for the slowest elevators on the planet.

Billy shook his head. "I packed clothes." He patted the courier bag hanging over his shoulder, stuffed full and bulky. "I'll get dressed at the shop, assuming Tommy's not busy tattooing someone's butt in the back room."

Kate pushed the door open and they stumbled out together into the warm evening air. "You know what's sad?" He didn't want to bite, wasn't going to ask, but she grinned at him from behind her ridiculous purple-framed sunglasses and he rolled his eyes. "That you're the gay one, but your twin gets his hands on a whole lot more man-ass than you."

_Ouch. _"You're saying I need a career change?"

"I'm saying you need a life."

ooooo

Early summer had to be one of the best times of year to be living in New York, the streets filled with people, the warmth of the sun lingering the in air long after the sun itself had dipped below the horizon. It was still mostly light by the time they pulled in to park, the sign reading

Patriots

Tattoos and Body Piercing

bright red, white and blue on the brick wall over the door to the small shop across the street. The 'OPEN' sign hung in the door and a cluster of girls bubbled out as they approached, giggling and chattering amongst themselves. "But his _arms!_" "I know, right?" "I have the sudden urge to get my nipples done." "No way. You'd chicken out."

Geez. Either Tommy or Eli had to have started doing some major power-lifting over the past week to get _that_ kind of reaction. Unnoticed and with Kate hot on his heels, Billy pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bell jingled and Cassie waved to him from behind the register as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. The kid she was tutoring flashed him a wide smile as well from under a mess of dark hair before she went back to her conversation.

_Patriots_ was a literal hole-in-the-wall, sandwiched between a Souvlaki Shack and a cash-for-gold place, on the bottom floor of a run-down building in a really-not-fashionable area of town. A nightclub two doors over was about as classy as the area got, and all _that_ meant was an overflow of hipsters on retro-Thursdays. That the shop survived was testament to Eli's luck, more than anything else. His luck, and the artists' skill.

Right now, _Patriots' _second most booked-up artist was dangling himself across the counter, white hair flopping down over his face. "Let him upgrade that tired old hoop to something blingy," Tommy said, his grin wide. Eli, unpacking a box of horror movie t-shirts, ignored him. America moved in and out of Billy's line of sight, cleaning up her station and wiping down the padded leather chair with something that smelled of disinfectant.

"Get the other side done and stretch them, then."

Eli grabbed another t-shirt from the box and slid it on to a hanger before racking it with the others. The inside lights gleamed off the dark expanse of his shaved head, his own blue t-shirt proclaiming 'Occupy Everything' in stark white letters. "No, Tommy," he said with faint irritation.

"You're no fun," Tommy said, and pushed himself back to standing. He lifted his chin to acknowledge Billy and smiled wide at Kate.

"So I've heard."

"New ink, if you don't want a piercing. Big old stars and stripes, right on the bicep. Wow the ladies at the gym."

"No, Tommy." Billy could have predicted that one. For a guy who owned a body-mod studio, Eli was remarkably straight-edge, with only one visible piercing to his name.

That was still one more than Billy had, mind you, yet another reminder of the hopeless gulf of difference between himself and his twin. Tommy's arms burned with color, swirls of vibrant scales and wing-like shapes vanishing up under the sleeve of his shirt on one side, black and white curlicues licking like lines of fire down the other.

They were living proof of nurture over nature, the tattooed Jersey boy with the bleached hair and pierced ears, and the nerdy Jewish upper east sider with the fancy education and no idea how to even pretend at being cool. Just about the only thing they had in common was their face.

That, and Kate. She was busy sucking face with Tommy when Billy looked over, Tommy's hands curled into her long dark hair. He quickly looked away.

"It's not that I _mind_ heterosexuals," he said as America passed him, "I just wish they didn't feel the need to shove it in our faces all the time." She snorted, the closest he ever got to a laugh out of her, and Tommy and Kate flipped him a matching pair of middle fingers.

"Watch it!" Eli said, glaring at Kate and Tommy rather than the others. "There are children present!"

"Oh, we don't mind," Cassie piped up from where she sat, chin on her hands, behind the register.

"Not at all," her student added. Kamala followed America around the studio like her own little shadow half the time, spending the rest supposedly getting tutored in AP Chemistry. "Carry on."

"You're a bad influence." Eli shook his head at Cassie, but she only grinned back, totally unintimidated by his grumbling.

"I try."

Billy shifted his bag on his shoulder and went behind the counter, heading down the aisle between the personalized stations toward the back rooms.

Nate's old station had been reopened, and that was something new. It had been sitting there empty for a couple of months, since he'd moved to California, the tool cabinet slowly gathering a thin coating of dust. Now a box of latex gloves sat on the shelf, a mirror hung on the wall at head-height, and an unfamiliar jacket had been tossed over the back of the sturdy office chair.

_Right; new person. _

Eli had been muttering for weeks about hiring someone to take Nate's place and do piercings; neither Tommy nor America were all that interested in diversifying. No-one else seemed to be around, though.

"Use the second room," Tommy shouted back, even as Billy got to the door. Too late; he'd already turned the handle and pushed the door partway open before the words and their meaning registered.

The lights were already on in the private office. A duffle bag sat under the counter, a box of sterile needles on top. A small stack of rolled-up posters and picture frames rested against the wall, and the padded bed was occupied. A man Billy had never seen before - because God help him, he would have remembered every detail if he had - sat on it cross-legged, sorting out piles of little baggies filled with barbells and rings. He looked up and smiled hesitantly, and Billy's brain, normally something he was really comfortable relying on in just about any given situation, turned to mush.

Blond. He was such a perfect blond that it had to be unnatural, his hair a bit shaggy, brushed forward to show the undercut in back. His eyes were so blue that Billy could see the color from where he stood, wide and open and honest. _Don't you think we're exaggerating this a bit?_

_No,_ his treacherous brain decided without his input. _We're really not._

A black t-shirt clung to his shoulders, outlined the curve of his pecs before folding down around his waist. He wore cargo pants that looked like military surplus, and combat boots. The only weirdness in his whole 'anarchist-chic' look was an old green and yellow knotted friendship bracelet tied snugly around one wrist. Silver-colored rings and cuffs marched up the edge of each of his ears; he had plugs in the first ones, balls in his eyebrow and - help - his full lower lip as well. That had to hurt; it was too… too hot.

What would it feel like to kiss him with the barbell in? Would it be cool against his lips, or warm like his body heat? _Shit. _He was staring, and the guy was staring back at him, and Tommy would never, ever, _ever_ let him live it down if Billy popped a boner just from _looking_. He had never felt so brutally, excruciatingly uncool in his life.

_Say something smart, butthead._

"Uh, hi," Billy said. "Sorry, I can- I didn't know anyone was-"

"No, it's okay," Gorgeous Man shook his head and unfolded his legs from underneath him, standing so smoothly and gracefully that it was simply unfair. "You're Billy, right? I'm Teddy. We haven't met yet."

_He knows my name._

"Yeah, uh, how did you know?" he blurted out, and he had never been so intimately aware of his body before. His palms had gone damp, his heart was racing, and every time he opened his mouth he said something dumber than the last.

Gorgeous - _Teddy -_ just grinned, and it was infectious enough to make Billy smile back and almost forget that he was in the middle of a really _good_ panic. "Wild guess? Unless you guys are triplets, which would be cool too."

"No!" Billy said, starting to calm down and find his words again. Teddy's arms weren't tattooed, which was interesting; the others all had something, except for Eli - and Billy. It didn't give him an excuse as to why he was staring, though, if Teddy called him on it.

_How about we go with 'I'm a sadly single and lonely perv, and you're too hot to be real'? No? _

"That is," he said, "we're not twins. I mean triplets. We are twins. Obviously. Except Tommy dyes his hair. Also… obviously." And depressingly, the floor did not open up to swallow him whole. Teddy's face squished strangely, and he made a funny noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a cough. "I just came back to use one of the rooms to change clothes. I didn't realize anyone was in here. I'll, um, go."

"No, no, it's fine," Teddy waved his hand in a gesture that could be either 'it's all good' or 'come over here and kiss me.' Billy was probably projecting a little bit on the second version. "You can stay, I don't mind. I have to go up front and start setting up the jewelry case, so I won't be in your way."

He had to stop being ridiculous. This was Tommy's new co-worker, and nothing more. They'd cross paths sometimes when Billy came by the store, might see him at a party or two, and that was it. It's not like he hung out with, say, Cassie… no, bad example. He saw her more than he saw his own younger brothers.

The whole point was, this was not a thing that was going to happen. Probability-wise, he was more likely to be straight than not. So be cool.

"Sure, thanks," Billy said evenly, and turned aside to dump his bag on the table beside Teddy's duffle. "I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

The jeans would have to wait until Teddy had left the room; old locker room coping skills or not, there was no way he was going to drop his pants right now. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as Teddy rustled around behind him, the sound of opening and closing drawers so much louder and more intrusive than it should be.

"Catch you later," Teddy said from the door. He sounded all casual and easy, but when Billy glanced back over his shoulder, Teddy hastily looked away. Was it his imagination, or had Teddy's eyes flickered over him, just quickly enough to be a thing? Not slowly enough to be a leer, but it might have - could have - had he just _checked Billy out_?

Not likely. Even if he _weren't _entirely straight, there was no way that a sexy, anarchist, body piercer would be the least bit interested in a dorktastic, video-game-playing, comic-collecting, _publishing intern_. If there was one thing he had learned from Tommy over the past few years, it was that they lived in very different worlds.

"Later," Billy said, as nonchalantly as he could manage. He held his breath until Teddy left the room and closed the door again. The air rushed out of Billy in a whoosh, and he sagged against the table for support, his knees all gone to mush. "Holy shit," he whimpered. Maybe Teddy would turn out to be a jock jerk. Yeah, that would do. He would have been part of the popular crowd in high school; that was a given. Some big meathead of the sort who liked to shove Billy around and send him home with a bloody nose.

No, that wasn't working at all. The image that flashed into mind, of Teddy pressing Billy up against the gym lockers, leaning in close to deliver his threats… that did very different things to him. Very inappropriate things.

"Fuck," Billy muttered aloud, breathing deeply to settle his racing pulse and wait for his sudden semi to die down. "I'm _doomed_."

ooooo

The five minutes it took to change into jeans and a better shirt and wash his face gave him a chance to get his head screwed back on right. Billy scruffed his damp fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to calm it down one last time. _Screw it. _ It was going to do whatever the hell it liked anyway.

Tommy, Eli and America were running Teddy through the closing routine by the time Billy rejoined them. Kate waited, tapping her foot, at the front door, and Kamala and Cassie had already taken off for parts unknown. "Let's roll," Kate ordered when Billy joined them, and Teddy glanced up from the cash register to smile at him again. Billy smiled back, very aware of the wrinkle in his shirt collar and the way his hair was flopping over his forehead like some wayward… flopping… thing. Teddy didn't seem to notice.

"I think I got it," Teddy promised Eli, and America grabbed her jean jacket.

"Did you leave the rent check for Clint?" Eli fussed at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _dad. _I put it under his door." She scowled, but not in the way she did when she really meant it. This was more of her scowl-for-show, and he was mildly proud of himself for finally learning how to tell them apart. "His mangy old dog licked me through the mail slot."

Tommy snickered, jamming his beanie on his head and hung his sunglasses in the neck of his t-shirt. "See? You appeal to the poor dumb animals."

"That must be why I can't seem to get rid of you." She zinged him back and Tommy clutched at his heart.

Kate paused, and cocked her head. "We're going to grab dinner and then hit a show," she said, looking at Teddy. "Want to come?"

Teddy paused, looking conflicted, then shook his head. "No thanks," he said, and Billy's heart bumped over with disappointment. "I need to get all this stuff sorted out," Teddy gestured to the array of bags and end-displays on the counter, "and get my orders ready for tomorrow. Maybe next time?"

"Yeah," Billy said, and Teddy looked relieved.

"You've got a key?" Eli demanded.

"Tommy gave me a copy."

"Remember to set the alarm."

America poked Eli between the shoulder blades and Kate crossed the room to jam her arm through his. "Come on," she ordered, and Eli scowled at her. "Quit bugging new guy and get moving. The shop will be still be standing tomorrow."

"Cross my heart," Teddy added, and Billy laughed. _That_ earned him a funny look from Tommy, because it hadn't actually been funny after all, and Billy was going to be in for a whole lot of teasing tonight. America flipped the sign to 'Closed' as they left, piling out in a crowd onto the busy city street.

Kate arched an eyebrow as they fell into step together, Eli and America bickering easily at the head of the pack. "You okay?" she asked. "You're acting weird."

_I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced._

"Yeah," he said instead. "I'm fine."

They crossed the street and he glanced over his shoulder, back the way they'd come. The shop looked the same as it always did, and so did the street. Other than the light still burning in the window, and the occasional flicker of movement from inside that would be Teddy organizing his gear, there was no sign at all that anything had changed.

So why did it feel like something important had?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Billy opened his eyes slowly, the lids gummed together and his hair smelling like fog machine. He took slow and careful inventory. All ten fingers and toes still there, hair still there, brain… sore. Throat sore. Foot sore from Eli getting cajoled onto the dance floor. Why did they do this sort of thing for fun?

Blinking. Blinking was useful. His mouth was dry, his eyelids pretty close to sandpaper, and that last drink had obviously been one drink too many. Most of them consumed while hanging off of Kate and - oh God - he had a vague memory of waxing rhapsodic about Teddy's arms.

His clock said 8:32. His heart stopped beating. His alarm hadn't gone off, why hadn't his alarm gone off? He was late for work and Tommy hadn't banged on the door or… or… Sitting up in bed, t-shirt and boxers twisted every which way, Billy heard a voice coming from the living room.

_And stretch, dowwwwwn, dowwwwwwwn, breathe out and let your energy floooooooow into the ground… _

Saturday. Which meant no work, no alarm, and Kate staying over.

Okay. That was better.

Tommy was banging around in the kitchen already, which meant Billy didn't feel any guilt about diving into the shower and hanging out under the hot water until it started to turn cool. The streams beat against the top of his head and his shoulders, sluicing down the drain carrying bits of glitter in the current. He tipped his face up into the water and let it massage his face, smoothing out the tension he was still carrying from the week.

_Teddy. _He should have remembered to ask his last name. Talking to him had made Billy so nervous, though, that he'd have been hard-pressed to remember his own. How embarrassing had he been last night? That probably depended on how sober everyone else had stayed.

_Grow up, Kaplan_. He turned off the water and stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, wrapping a towel around himself. The mirror told him nothing he didn't already know. In shape, mostly. Tall enough for it not to be an issue, but not any taller than that. Okay-looking, if you liked the vaguely semitic Ashkenazi vibe, and didn't insist on full-body man-scaping.

He got his share of attention, sure, but nothing at all that would speak to a guy who pierced tongues for a living.

How did people even get into that as a career in the first place?

Tommy's path had been obvious; he'd been coloring on himself since he was a kid. Every time he could get his hands on Billy, Tommy would break out the markers and use Billy as a walking canvas.

(After the first time, Billy's parents had sent him over with a large box of washable Crayolas and a request for the Sharpies to be put out of reach.)

By high school, Tommy was taking life drawing classes at the art gallery, and had six or seven markers in his pockets at all times. The Shepherds hadn't seemed to care that he got an apprenticeship instead of going to college. The Kaplans hadn't given Billy that option. College or bust. But now look at them. Tommy was living his dream, part owner of his own business, and Billy was still doing data entry and making coffee as an unpaid intern with 'casual Friday' as his one big perk. So of the two of them, who'd been the smart one?

Still, Billy considered as he pulled his jeans on in his bedroom, tattooing was art, just on skin instead of canvas or walls. How did you get to a point in life where shoving metal bars through someone's body was your idea of a good time?

And how had he gotten to a point in life where tattoos seemed normal, but piercings felt weird?

He headed for the kitchen and stepped around Kate, hanging out head-down in Humble Warrior in the center of the tiny living room. "Morning," he said, and resisted the urge to prod her with his toe and see if he could knock her over. That would only end in bloodshed (his).

"Morning," Kate said, from somewhere below her shoulders. "How's your head, loverboy?"

_Dammit._

"Don't ever let me have that many screwdrivers again," he begged, with feeling.

"But you're so cute when you're wasted."

"_And roll up slowly, slowly, through your spine" _Kate's iPod announced, and she started to come out of her stretch. "_Remember to feeeeeeeeeel your chakras opening…"_

Tommy sat at the rickety old formica table in the kitchen, a mug of coffee about as big as his head in one hand, and a marker in the other. His tank top hung loose on him, showing off the intricate artwork on his shoulders and back. He sketched out a handful of lines as Billy slunk in behind him to get coffee, some kind of dragon design spooling out under his pen.

"Morning," Billy pushed a pile of half-done doodles and pieces of carbon paper out of the way to put his mug on the table.

_Breathe out through your nose as we relax, _announced Kate's iPod from the living room. _Remember, we are alllll staaaaaarlight._

He didn't feel much like starlight. A streetlamp, maybe. Utilitarian and overlooked.

"You still alive, dude?" Tommy said, way too cheerfully. He poked up Billy's eyelid and stared in at him, green eye twinkling.

"Better once I'm caffinated." Billy swiped at him, missed, and Tommy went back to his sketching. "Tell me I can still go out in public today."

Tommy grinned, and damn his stupid metabolism that seemed never to let him get in over his head. "Oh yeah. You were fine. Didn't even puke."

"Is that your baseline level for 'fine?'"

"What do you want me to tell you?" Tommy shrugged. "You didn't get anyone's number, you didn't dance on the bar, and apparently I need to take a closer look at Altman's ass, because you called him a 'Greek god.' You need to get laid, dude. Like, yesterday."

Billy sank down in his chair, taking his mug with him. "Shut up." A terrifying thought hit him, and he sat upright and stabbed an accusatory finger at Tommy. "You can't say anything about that. To _anyone._ I didn't mean it, I was tired and drunk, and I really don't need to be the topic of shop gossip."

"Who, them?" Kate wandered by, her towel around her neck, and stole Tommy's mug. He slid an arm around her hips while she drank, not even bothering to fight her for it. "Gossip? You must be joking. What could they _possibly _ find to gossip about?"

"You're the worst of the bunch." Billy groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I can never go into the shop again."

ooooo

By two pm on Sunday Billy had just about used up his willpower. He had errands to run, that was the only reason he'd headed out. Really. And if he happened to need to get some things from the Asian grocery a block away from _Patriots_, well, he was supporting smaller local businesses. Pocky was practically a food group.

And if he walked by the shop three times before he gave up and started trying to come up with a logical excuse for going in, well… nobody needed to know that part, either.

Cassie was on counter duty when he wandered in, take-out bag in hand. The shop buzzed with noise, the hum of the tattoo machines a constant rhythm beneath the pulsing beat of one of Tommy's club mix playlists. "Billy!" She closed the filing cabinet drawer and grinned at him, her eyes bright. "What's new with you?" Annnnnd she knew. He could turn around and leave, but it was too late. Teddy looked up from the client he was talking to at Nate's old station, and waved. Billy waved back. Did that look too eager? Probably.

He couldn't leave now, right? It would be rude. And weird. He should at least stick around long enough to say hi properly.

"Tommy's booked with a client for another half-hour," Cassie told him.

Billy nodded, putting the burger bag on the counter. "That's fine. I brought him some lunch in case he hadn't had a chance to eat." It was an excuse Tommy would see right through, but taking care of your brother was good for bonus points no matter the reasons, right? "I can find something to entertain myself until he's done."

Cassie laughed, then did her best to look totally innocent when he glared at her. "I'll bet you can."

Tommy sat at his station behind Teddy's, his head down and all his attention focused on the shoulder of the guy in the chair in front of him. Billy liked watching him work, on the rare occasions that he got the chance. Tommy's usual state of constant motion slowed, everything channeled into the flow of ink and the smooth sweep of the needles across his client's skin. 'ADHD,' Billy's mom had muttered more than once, along with terms like 'hyperfocus' and 'attentional dysregulation.' (The Shepherds had never been interested in listening.) Cassie was right; he'd be there a while.

Teddy was just about done, though, peeling off a pair of latex gloves and tossing them dead-center into the garbage can a few feet away. "Nothin' but net," he boasted, and the little girl sitting on his table laughed with him. The shiny crystals in her new earrings caught the light as she hopped down, Teddy's voice warm and soothing as he ran through the usual aftercare blah-blah with her mother.

"Don't touch them." Teddy caught her with her hands halfway to her ears. She looked as sheepish as a first (or second?) grader could look, and Teddy crouched down to hang out at her eye-level. "You have to promise me you won't touch your earrings unless you've washed your hands first," he said solemnly. "And then only when you're cleaning them." She nodded, and he held out his little finger. "Pinkie swear."

She linked her finger in his, Teddy's broad hand all but engulfing her half-scale version. She stared at him equally solemnly. "Pinkie swear."

"You're staring like a creeper." Cassie had slipped up behind Billy, and he jumped at the voice in his ear. "Go talk to him!"

"I will once he's done." It was the easiest way to get her to not bug him, after all. "He's really good with kids, isn't he?"

Cassie rested her elbows back on the display case and nodded. "Yup. It must be coming up on school pictures or something, because he had a couple of other kids in for ears yesterday. It was pretty cute. Oops, don't look now!"

What did she expect him to do, with a lead-in like that? When he turned, Teddy was watching them. Was the smile on his face for Cassie, or for him, or both? Or was it just because he had clients there and needed to look like he was being nice to everyone? "Cass, can you ring them up?" Teddy asked, blue eyes wide and friendly, and she waved the little girl's mother over to the cash register.

Which left Teddy with the chance to clean up his station, for the all of fifteen seconds it would take to throw things out and wipe things down; and Billy without someone to talk to.

"How's it going?" Teddy asked, saving Billy from having to try to think up an ice-breaker. He wandered over to Teddy's station instead, trying to make himself look as effortlessly cool as Teddy did. He had the same cargo pants on, or an identical pair, matched to an AC/DC tour shirt this time. The black cotton was faded, looked so old that it had to be incredibly soft.

Only Billy's sense of self-preservation and the sure and certain knowledge that he would trip over something if he tried kept him from pinching the fabric to feel it. "Not bad," he said instead, shrugging. His shopping bags slid on his wrist, his hands jammed oh-so-convincingly-casually into his pockets.

Teddy glanced down at the movement. "Just passing through?" He closed the drawer on his cabinet and sat down, folding one leg under him on the chair. His arms flexed as he grabbed his ankle, firm muscles bunching and shifting under his skin. Billy liked to think he had a pretty decent build, mostly; nice shoulders, at least. But Teddy looked like he could actually hold Billy up in those arms while he-

_System clear; reset. Ctrl-alt-delete._

"Yeah!" Billy replied, his ears burning. "I uh - had a bunch of errands to run, and happened to be in the area, so I thought I'd drop by and see who was around." Could he sound less convincing? Teddy had that squished look around his mouth again, the corners of his lips twitching up like he knew something Billy didn't, He couldn't deal with that notion right now. Maybe not ever. "Eli's got you working Sundays?" he asked, diving into a safer subject change.

Teddy nodded. "I'm still getting established; I didn't come in with a lot of regular clients. I'll take all the hours and all the walk-ins I can get," he answered openly.

"Whatever helps you pay the rent," Billy said, starting to relax. Just a regular guy, having regular guy conversations. No need to get nervous. "Didn't you have regulars at your last shop?"

"Something like that." Teddy frowned, so quickly that if Billy had blinked at the wrong moment he would have missed it. He also didn't answer Billy's second question at all, but that had been pretty nosy. Maybe he'd been new there, too. Then Teddy's sunny smile was back, and far too distracting, and it was like nothing had happened. "Is that a bag from Forbidden Planet?" he asked, apropos of nothing. "Are you a comic geek, or is Tommy secretly a much bigger nerd than he likes to let on?"

"If he's got a pull list, it's news to me." Billy outed himself with that one, and he braced for the teasing that was going to come. It was one thing to call yourself a nerd, or for your brother and his girlfriend to do it, say. It was another thing entirely to get it from a guy you barely knew.

_The only reading he probably does are the sports scores. _But that mean thought didn't make him feel any better.

"So what's on yours?" Teddy asked. "Indie or big two?"

Billy blinked. "Uh. Batfamily, mostly. Saga." _Did he just-?_

"DC?" Teddy gasped in mock horror. "That's it; you're dead to me."

"Saga's not DC," Billy felt the burning need to correct him on that one. "Are you saying that _you_ read comics?"

"Make Mine Marvel," Teddy replied, dropping his foot down to the ground and kicking back in his chair. His eyes sparkled, and if he was setting Billy up to make fun of him, he was drawing it out longer than expected. "I like a lot of the Avengers stuff, and the street-level heroes. I think my first DC book was something from the middle of Crisis on Infinite Earths and that scarred me for life."

Billy narrowed his eyes at Teddy, but there was no easy way to tell if he was goofing around or not. "You're pulling my leg. Did Tommy put you up to this? You guys-" he gestured, first to Teddy, and then to the shop as a whole, encompassing Tommy, America and their current clients in the gesture. "- are too cool for that stuff. Or so Tommy keeps reminding me."

Teddy messed with his bracelets, pushing the thread one up his wrist and unbuckling the leather cuff he had on the other side. He held his hands up, his face solemn. "You've discovered my secret identity. I'm actually incredibly uncool." He had tattoos after all, one on each wrist, about an inch and a half wide. Captain America's shield had been done in clean, perfect circles, and a yellow eight-pointed star almost glowed on his other wrist, against a background of softly washed red and blue. "Avengers, assemble."

"Holy shit, you weren't joking." Billy's world tilted a bit, and everything slid a little sideways before it restored itself. The sun burned brighter through the windows behind them, catching Teddy's blond hair and turning it into a golden halo. "I know Cap, of course, but what's the other one?"

_He reads comics, does he play video games as well? He's perfect._

"Also a Cap," Teddy said, fastening the leather cuff back on, but higher up and looser so it didn't cover the tattoo anymore. "Captain Marvel. Also awesome, slightly more alien, can actually fly. I've got a bunch of the trades; I can lend you some if you feel like catching up on _good_ superheroes."

"You did not just go there." Billy laughed and groaned. "If I wanted to read about some poor dope whose main problem is trying to find a girlfriend and hold down a job, I'd read blogs. I like epic. Give me billionaires in tights for my escapism."

"The tights are important," Teddy agreed readily. "Could've done without the Schumacher codpiece and nipples on Batdude, though. That took the spraypaint costume look just a bit too far. It's not like Batman has a lot of personal dignity at that point as it is."

"The first rule of DC fandom is, we don't talk about 'Batman and Robin.'" It was on the tip of his tongue, the perfect time to ask. _Are you busy Wednesday? Wanna come with me after work, grab dinner and comics and talk about them and maybe come back to my place and read them together curled up on the couch like we've been doing this all our lives?-_

"Since when do you bring me food, little brother?" Tommy dangled over the waist-high divider that blocked the work stations off from the front of the shop. His client had gone up to the cash to pay, his shirt back on and his movements stiff. Tommy had the bag in his hand, the greasy smell wafting through the air.

Tommy flicked Teddy in the ear and Teddy swatted at him, obviously comfortable with the teasing. Billy's stomach tightened up, hard. Probably from the smell of fried crap. Teddy got up to move away from Tommy's harassment.

"Whatever," Billy shrugged uncomfortably. "Call it an unfortunate burst of altruism. But I meant to tell you," he deflected attention away from himself, and his not-creepy-at-all motives for showing up. "Mom wants you to come over for dinner. She's gotten on one of her 'good nutrition for a successful future' kicks again."

Tommy did that thing he always did where he pretended to roll his eyes, but was grinning underneath. "She's just going to give me that 'you're too skinny; are you getting enough complex carbs' speech again."

"That," Billy agreed ruefully, "or 'you can't live on coffee, take these four boxes of leftovers.'"

"On the other hand, Jeff makes meatballs that are worth all the grief. I'm in. Just me, or me and Kate?"

"Both of you - all of us." But in changing the subject he'd killed the other conversation, and now- "hang on-"

But by the time he turned around, Teddy was gone. The door to the back room swung closed.

"Yeah," Tommy said, looking smug. "That's what I figured. But you can keep bringing me lunch, if that's your best seduction move. I'm not gonna argue."

"Shut up and let me die."

ooooo

Billy didn't get a chance to ask Teddy out again that day, the moment gone. By the time he got there on Wednesday, running late and huffing to catch his breath, Teddy had already gone for the day.

"Went to the gym," America said, not looking up from the intricate series of compass lines she was etching into a woman's back. "Not like he needs it. Now get out of my space before you knock something over."

And after that it just seemed awkward.

Not talking to Teddy - that was the absolute opposite of awkward, now that they'd found common ground. But there never seemed to be another good opening. Either someone interrupted, or Teddy veered away from the subject whenever relationships or dating came up, or even when the guys were just talking about plans for after work.

It was the sort of thing Billy probably wouldn't have noticed, if he wasn't still trying to find a way to casually, cooly (yet hinting at the depths of passion of which he was hopefully capable), ask Teddy out. Or at least find out if he was interested.

All signs were starting to point to 'no.'

ooooo

"You need to read 'In Pursuit of Flight,'" Teddy told him, before wrapping his lips around his soda straw. "I'll lend you my copy if that's what it takes."

"Lift your feet," Cassie pushed the broom past Billy and Teddy, and swept out the dust from under the couch they were sprawled on. Billy hiked up his knees obediently, until she was done and moving on, casting a dark scowl at the fast food bags they'd dropped on the low coffee table. It hadn't been a date, sadly, but showing up at the shop on Sunday with a second bag bought him a lot of extra hang-out time, with no questions asked.

Teddy tucked into the burger like a death row prisoner on his last meal, finishing the entire thing in only a couple of bites.

The shop bell jingled cheerfully, the first customer of the day. _Please let it be someone for Tommy or America_. The woman who came in wasn't the usual sort of client; she had to be at least fifty and dressed older, dowdy tweed skirt and flat heels, and a hat perched on top of hair that had been permed and sprayed into servitude. The bible she carried in the crook of her elbow had a fancy leather cover with gold lettering on it, and looked heavy enough to use as a murder weapon.

Eli stopped typing on his computer and sat up. He watched her as she tentatively stepped into the middle of the reception area, her knuckles white on her bible. He raised an eyebrow. "Can we help you?"

At least he started out polite.

"Somehow I don't think she's coming in to get a Jesus fish on her arm," Teddy murmured for Billy's ears alone. He muffled a laugh, just as Church Lady recoiled from some of the goofier old-school flash displayed on the wall.

"Devils!" She proclaimed aloud, jabbing a finger in the air and then at a flash sheet of stylized crosses and pentagrams. "The Bible says, 'you shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves!' thus sayeth the Lord! All of you will burn in the fires of hell!"

Teddy sighed softly. "Too much to ask that these guys would go for 'do unto others'?"

"Unless she likes being judged," Billy said. "There's no accounting for some people's fetishes."

"Point."

Kamala sat up from behind her mountain of homework at the back table, eyes wide.

"You mock the Lord and His Good Works," Church Lady proclaimed, with audible capital letters. "Satanists!" She wheeled around to indicate all of them in the room. Eli didn't seem in a rush to move to throw her out. "All of you! Repent your wicked ways and be saved!"

"I don't think we have any Satanists here," Eli said, very matter-of-factly. "I'm Baptist, for the record. Ted?"

"Episcopalian, technically," Teddy answered. "But it's been a while. Billy?"

"Jewish. Reform." Tommy and Kate had emerged from the little kitchen area when the shouting started. Kate leaned against the wall, her arms folded, and Tommy was rolling his eyes so far back in his head that Billy could barely see anything but the whites. "Tommy?" Billy bounced the conversation over to him.

"God is dead," Tommy pronounced, and Church Lady started to sputter. "Kate?"

"Let's say questioning agnostic. Chavez - hit me."

"Pagan, _hija_; goddess-centered. Kam?"

Kamala had relaxed when the shouting stopped, but now her eyes darted to America with a look a little bit like betrayal. She answered, though, along with the rest. "I'm a muslima. Cassie?"

"The Church of Neil Degrasse Tyson," Cassie proclaimed, leaning on her broom. "So to speak."

"Sorry about that," Eli said, spreading his hands. "You must have the wrong studio. Try Sanctuary, around the corner. They have goth nights on Saturday and can probably hook you up."

"Repent!" She ordered them with a quavering voice, but when faced with the collective bitch-faces behind the counter, even her resolve failed. She scurried away, but not before dropping a handful of garishly-colored pamphlets on the counter by the door.

"You'd figure she'd have something better to do with her time," Billy said after she was gone and the laughter had started in the room. Cassie grabbed the tracts and offered them to Eli, who tossed them into the garbage with a satisfying thump.

"Nah," Teddy gathered up their lunch debris and threw it away, the door opening again to let in one of Tommy's regular clients. "How else would she get her kicks, if not by walking alone into the jaws of _the beast!" _He pretended to loom over Billy, making chomping motions with his hands, until Billy burst out laughing.

"Very vicious. I'm terrified."

"With big - sharp - pointy - teeth!"

"You better go brush those pointy teeth before you scare off some poor kid. Onion ring breath, Ted." Billy waved his hand in front of his face and Teddy backed off, and that was better, that was safer, because he had come in close, loomed up over Billy and raised his arms like he was werewolf-larping… and all Billy could see was Teddy over him, pressing him down, running those teeth (not pointy, not at all) over his shoulders and chest.

He'd happily live with the onion breath, in exchange for that. But Teddy wandered off, and the sound of water running in the bathroom suggested that he had taken Billy completely seriously.

And that was the end of that. For now.

_Who brings a toothbrush to work?_

ooooo

The shop window had been plastered over with rally posters by the next weekend, recruiting for another one of Eli's community causes. (This time it was securing funding for the big-buddies reading program at the library. Before it had been 'Take Back the Night,' and before that an anti-gentrification protest; the month before that, the food bank.)

Billy pushed the door open with his shoulder and headed in.

Eli sat on the couch by the door, a couple of girls looking through America and Tommy's portfolios beside him. Cassie's bottom half stuck out of the supply cabinet beside the coffee machine.

"SHIT GODDAMN MOTHERPUSBUCKET FUCK ME."

"What the hell?" Billy asked, and one of the girls on the couch giggled nervously.

"Earl's in with Teddy," Eli said, as though the low pained groan was a totally normal noise. Was someone _dying_? What was Teddy _doing_ back there?

Cassie performed what was basically a magic trick, sitting back on her heels without banging her head against the lowest cabinet shelf. "Did anybody warn him?"

Eli looked up. A loud thump followed, coming from the first of the two back rooms. He grinned wickedly. "Nope."

The door opened and Teddy stuck his head out, his hands gloved. "Cass, can you grab me a juice box from the fridge?" And then he vanished back inside, Cassie following a moment later.

The girl with America's portfolio in her lap had wide eyes. "Is he - ah - getting a tattoo?"

America grinned, wolflike. "Could be. Some places hurt more than others." Her client went pale.

And it was back to business as usual, apparently, despite the possibility of a dead body in the back room. "Your disposable razors." Billy tossed the drugstore bag at Eli. "I regret giving you my phone number, for the record."

"You didn't," Eli said, typing something on his phone before shoving it back in his pocket. "Tommy did. And thanks. You were going to come over anyway, so why not be useful?"

America's client had apparently made up her mind, because she started talking at her with hands moving in the air, drawing out some vague shapes. "If you're ready to talk about what you want, come on over here." She kept talking as the girls followed her back to her station. "Ground rules - one, I don't do shitty flash. You want some little heart or flower that says 'mom,' go talk to Tommy. He'll have you out of here in half an hour. Two - no bullshit downloaded from Pinterest on your cell phone. I can't see it, I can't stencil it."

Teddy came out of the back room, passing America and the girls along the way. The massive biker who followed him walked in a straddle, wincing dramatically with every step. His arms were covered with blue and black linework that went with the whole motorcycle vest and bandanna deal he had going on, but the face behind the grizzled beard was pale. A woman with similar fashion sense followed along behind _him,_ smug like the canary who ate the cat.

"Remember that four weeks is your _minimum_ healing time," Teddy was saying, "not an across-the-board thing. So be gentle with him for a month or two," he joked to the woman. "And you may want to stay off motorcycles for a couple of days. Just until the swelling goes down and everything settles."

"Aw, shit, Nancy. You didn't tell me _that _part," the client grumbled to his wife as he paid, took a baggie of gauze and things from Teddy, and limped out the door.

"What did you think was gonna happen, Earl?"

"What did you do to him?" Billy asked after they'd left and the door had closed.

"Just a Prince Albert," Teddy replied. That was a dick one, wasn't it? He was pretty sure it was a dick one. The way Eli winced confirmed it. Teddy didn't even flinch, like shoving needles through a guy's junk was a totally normal experience for him. Which... it probably was. Aw, man. "It's an easy one to get done, honestly. Nipples are a lot worse."

Teddy was utterly nonchalant about that revelation, but Billy's mind went all kinds of places that it really, really shouldn't. And apparently it was possible to both squirm in imagined agony and be kind of aroused at exactly the same time.

"So," Billy asked, curious despite himself, sure that he was going to regret asking. "That was what all the cursing was about?"

"Cursing and _fainting_," Cassie added, heading for the door with a full garbage bag. "He was on the floor when I went in, feet in the air."

"Nice job, painmaster." Eli huffed a laugh.

Teddy shook his head. "I hadn't even gotten that far! We went through the process, he signed all the paperwork, I opened the new needle and the receiving tube, and he keeled over." He mimed a tree falling, looking a little sheepish.

"Earl doesn't do so well with the anticipation," Eli said knowingly. "He went down last year when America was setting up his sleeve and put his forehead through the wall." Billy looked, though the spot had been repaired a long time since. "The piece turned out beautifully. And at least he came back the next day to spackle."

Cassie and Eli cracked up, but it was an effort for Billy to keep up the fake smile. Would he have the guts to ever go through with a piercing, be like everyone else he knew? Hell, he'd watched Teddy pierce a seven year old's ears the other day, and she hadn't flinched. Or would _he_ panic too, end up on the floor with Cassie feeding him apple juice through a bendy straw; just another shop laughingstock?

Hopefully not. But how could he be sure?

ooooo

Six o'clock, quitting time. Except Kate had taken a personal day, so there was no boss's daughter to spring him from the holding cell. Billy stared at his screen, the layout guides and text boxes blurring into one large mass of incomprehensible black and white.

"Big plans tonight, Kaplan?" Kessler leaned over the divider, sneering. "Or are you hanging out in the ghetto with the delinquents again?" Some guys never changed. Big fish in high school, BMOC at college, and they expected the same shitty tricks to work once they hit the working world.

Sad part of it was, they were usually right.

He couldn't get punched here. He was a grownup, technically; he could press charges for assault now. Not that Kessler couldn't come up with a thousand other ways to make his life miserable.

"Sure, wanna come?" Billy said, putting all the energy he had left into sounding like he was bored. "I bet you'd look great with Rainbow Dash tattooed on your butt. Or would mommy get jealous that you didn't get her name first?"

"I should call the health department on your dumbass brother and his shop," Kessler sneered. "Or maybe the cops? I hear places like that are always dealing out the back door. That would go over great with Mr. Bishop."

"And here I thought you were just interested in more time in my company," Billy scoffed. "But it's all about Kate again. You're still mad that she prefers a guy with more than two brain cells to rub together?" He pushed his chair a few inches further away from the divider, the air close and his face warm. "I'd suggest getting some tattoos to improve your face, but I wouldn't want them to have to decontaminate the shop afterward."

Kessler balled his hand into a fist, hidden from the roving eye of their manager behind Billy's side of the divider. He snarled instead of throwing a punch. "Like you know jack shit about any of that. You're a puny little nerd, Kaplan, and you won't always have Bishop around to pull strings for you."

He stomped off and Billy let out a long sigh, his chest deflating as the air escaped. Screw staying late again. He wasn't getting any more work done tonight.

Going home wasn't the most appealing option. Tommy and Kate were going out, and he had no idea what their plans were. The polite thing for them to do, of course, would be to take it over to the apartment where Kate lived, alone. As in, without a roommate.

Which probably meant that if he wentback to his and Tommy's place, he'd end up walking in on parts of his brother and his best friend that he really had no interest in seeing. Or even considering. Gross.

He started walking, without any direction in mind.

It had been three weeks, almost, since Billy had barged in on Teddy in the studio. And after all that, a bunch of weekend afternoons spent hanging around and trying to talk, and he still didn't anything about Teddy. Not really. Just his job, and his unfortunate taste in media. When it came to movies or comics, they could talk for hours. But as far as personal things went? Teddy would change the subject, or have to take the phone, or something else would happen to throw a wrench into things.

He kicked a rock and it bounced along the sidewalk, tumbling off into the gutter.

And even with Teddy's total aversion to personal disclosure – _maybe he was in the witness protection program? That would be exciting_ – Billy still couldn't think of anything better than having a chance to go out with him.

It should be stupidly easy. Six monosyllabic words, for crying out loud. 'Will you go out with me.' None of them were even longer than four letters. And he still hadn't done it.

Even if he didn't want to go _out_-out; if Teddy was straight, or taken, or straight-and-married-with-children that he never mentioned, couldn't they still be friends?

Billy had lost Kate to Tommy at some point (or Tommy to Kate, whichever way that went). Kessler and his goons made sure that Billy didn't have anyone at work, either. The other guys were great, but Eli had his causes, America wasn't his biggest fan, and Cassie and Kamala were fun, but way too young to hang out with one-on-one without looking super-creepy.

His feet took him to the train and the train took him downtown. Before he really rationalized or realized it, Billy was heading for the shop. They were open late on Thursdays, but obviously not late enough. The only person left there was Teddy, turning the key in the lock.

"Teddy!" Billy called out.

His head jerked up, eyes wide, then when he saw who it was, he relaxed. "Billy, hey! You just missed Tommy."

"Yeah, I know," Billy said, coming closer. He jammed his hands in his pockets, missed, tried again, and folded his arms in front of him while Teddy looked like he was pretending not to have noticed. Nice of him. "He and Kate are going out tonight."

The homeless guy who sometimes crashed in the back alley pushed past him, muttering into a cell phone in something that sounded like Russian. Oh, New York.

And now he was standing here, in the street, alone with Teddy, and every clever word and phrase he had been considering flew out of both ears and crapped on his head as they migrated away. "I, uh. Yeah."

"Everything okay?" And now Teddy was looking at him with concern, like he'd just passed out at his feet and needed a stupid juice box.

"Yeah, yeah," Billy scrambled to recover. "Just a crap day at work and I didn't feel like going home to sulk in front of Pirhanaconda."

Teddy nodded. "Wise choice. Conan is a much better 'vengeance will be had' pick-you-upper."

"Schwarzenegger or Momoa version?"

"'Between the time when the oceans drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of,'" Teddy quoted, his smile broad. "Original, of course."

"My opinion remains unchanged," Billy informed him solemnly. "You have terrible taste."

"Must be why I like you, hunh?" And then Teddy stopped dead, like he'd said too much or said the wrong thing, and there would never be a better time. Billy steeled himself, his toes curled up on themselves inside his shoes.

_Now or never._

"Must be," he said, watching Teddy's face like he could divine the future in it. "The new del Toro movie's going to be out of theatres soon; did you want to go?" he said, as casually as he could make it. "Get burgers or something one day after work? You could use the exposure to some decent cinema."

Teddy looked odd, expressions flashing through his eyes and forehead like he was a roulette wheel, his mouth frozen in the same smile. Like he'd had some kind of amazing revelation, followed by something awful, just before everything closed down again and he was just... friendly. "Yeah, that'd be cool," he answered, looking down and staring at his left foot. "Cass was just talking about seeing it; we could get a group together," he offered, and Billy's momentary walking-on-air floaty exaltation turned into a deflating balloon.

"A group thing?" Billy echoed, his stomach sinking. "Yeah, sure. You should ask her to bring her boyfriend." _Please, don't be into Cass. For my sake. _

Teddy frowned, that vibrating _thing _Billy thought they had between them completely gone. "She has a boyfriend?"

"Yep." Billy may have taken a tiny bit too much pleasure in announcing that one, but he'd never claimed to be a really nice person. "But no-one's ever seen him," he confessed. "It would be a good chance to find out if he actually exists. I think Tommy and America have money riding on it."

Teddy nodded casually, like he hadn't just shot Billy's best try down in flames. "What about you?" he asked, and threw Billy off-balance again. Why did he look hopeful?

"Nah," Billy said. "I don't have a boyfriend." Moment of truth, in a way. He was hardly hiding anything, and it had probably come up in conversation with the guys at work, but that was the first time he'd said anything about it openly to Teddy.

Teddy wasn't shocked at all, didn't react except to say, "we should definitely plan this; could be fun," in a voice that sounded all distracted and maybe a little sad. "I'll get your number from Tommy if I don't see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Billy nodded, while he died inside. "And give me yours, so we can make plans to meet up. We can pick a theater that's halfway between our places, save everyone some travel time."

"Could do," Teddy said, flipping his wrist over to stare at his watch. "Crap; gotta run or I'll miss my bus." He headed off without waiting for a goodbye, hands in his pockets, head down, and his gym bag over his shoulder as he vanished into the evening.

Billy was left watching, and staring, and thinking too much. _What the hell just happened?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Teddy didn't bring any of it up again the next time Billy saw him, only smiling and then looking away. But for the first time, when Tommy wrangled everyone into joining him for drinks on Friday night, Teddy actually came along. Tommy's threat to take away his copy of the shop keys for the weekend ('to make you get some down-time, guy; all work and no play makes Teddy boring as hell') probably had the most to do with it.

It definitely didn't count as a date. But an evening that included sitting next to Teddy on a barstool while Kate paid for the next round of shots was a pretty nice start. Assuming anything ever actually started, which was still looking kind of dubious.

"I want, like, a butterfly on my ankle? But only if you can make it look not-gay.'" America mimicked, the air quotes audible even though she didn't twitch her fingers. She grimaced and plucked the closest full shot glass off of the waitress' tray.

Tommy countered, snorting. "'Do you do glow in the dark ink? For those invisible tattoos?' Only if you want a side of cancer with that."

"Yes," Teddy added to the litany of complaints, his chin in his hand. He caught Billy's eye and grinned, mischief making his blue eyes light up. "They do go all the way through. Yes, it'll probably bleed."

"Yes, it's going to hurt," all three of them chorused, clinging their shot glasses together and drinking. The music thumped loudly enough that Billy had to lean in to catch most of that, his elbows sliding on the damp surface of the little round table between them. Blue, red and yellow lights flashed over and around them, turning the club into a whirl of overwhelming sound and motion.

"I work with a bunch of sadists," Eli said, but he was chuckling and shaking his head at them when he did.

Kate leaned back in her chair. "Tommy's really more of a-" Tommy clapped his hand over her mouth and she stopped talking. His eyes went wide a second later, and he made a face, wiping his palm off on the side of Kate's shirt. He stuck his tongue in her ear.

"Break it up, kids." Eli flicked a beer nut, bouncing it off of Tommy's forehead. His unrequited crush on Kate had been passionate but brief, thankfully, but he never seemed to miss a chance when one came open.

Billy snorted. "Try _living _with that."

"Don't forget who keeps the rent money coming in for your community space, _cabron_," America diverted Eli's attention. On Billy's other side, Teddy's attention perked up. He turned his head quickly when Billy glanced his way, a funny unreadable expression on his face. It hadn't been wishful thinking that time, Billy was sure of it. Teddy had been watching him, and that look had been almost… wistful?

Yeah, he was so gone over this guy that he was making things up now. Billy stared down at his drink, his reflection staring back at him. Same old boring old Bill. He took the shot and it burned down his throat and through his body; something more exciting than being himself.

"Speaking of which," Eli was saying as Billy contemplated his navel, "if the Wednesday reading program gets cancelled at the library, I'm going to have to move the meetings back to the studio space one evening a week." Teddy stiffened then leaned on the table too casually, like he was pretending not to be stiff. No-one else seemed to notice.

"What meeting is that?" Teddy asked, and then Eli was off and running again. Billy had heard it all before; the reading groups, the food bank... the Wednesday ones were legalizing pot for cancer and AIDS patients. Eli was going to save the world, or die trying.

"...cleared the Senate Health Committee," Eli said loudly as the song ended, and Teddy nodded along.

A new track started up, something Billy had never heard before, which was about par for the course in this place. Tommy shoved himself back from the table and stood up, adjusting his beanie so it sat better on his head. "I'm going to go make Noh play some real music," he announced to the room at large, glaring at the bleach-blond, half-naked DJ spinning records on the stage at the far end.

Teddy stopped asking Eli about protest petitions, and cocked his head. "No?"

"Noh," America replied, and pointed him out. "Beefy boy, allergic to shirts." She looked over at him again, and the little shorts he had on. "And pants."

"It's N-O-H, like the Japanese theater," Kate added, which didn't really help much.

"It's his stage name, I think," Billy explained. Teddy nodded like he was following along with the scattered commentary, but the confused wrinkle between his eyebrows said otherwise. "It's all he goes by, anyway."

"He needs a better collection," Tommy complained. "Enough of this hipster bullshit."

Kate grabbed Tommy's hanging suspenders as he walked past her, and gave them a sharp tug. He stumbled backwards a step, all but falling into her lap. He leaned in to kiss her, but she just grinned. "I hate to break it to you, buddy." She tugged at his suspenders again, then pulled his beanie down over his eyebrows.

"Nuh-unh." Tommy shook his head and backed away.

"Hipsssssster," Kate stage-whispered, and Eli cracked up.

Tommy pulled his clothes free from her grabbing hands and started walking toward the DJ booth. "Can't hear you!" he called back.

Kate cupped her hands and shouted through them like a megaphone. "Hipster!"

Tommy put his thumbs in his ears to block her out. On Billy's left, Teddy whispered "Humperdink!" in a high falsetto. "Humperdink Humperdink Humperdink!" Billy's drink went down the wrong tube and he coughed, choking and sputtering as the burn of it fried his throat. Teddy whacked him hard on the back, which jolted Billy forward but didn't seem to accomplish much else.

"Put your arms up," Eli commanded him. "It'll open your airways." Billy obeyed the order, shoving his hands up into the air. Teddy whapped him between his shoulder blades a few more times, until Billy shook his head and waved him off, his coughing subsided.

"Sorry," Teddy got out, while laughing like the big jerk that he was. As contrite as he was pretending to be, he still left his hand on Billy's back for a few moments longer than necessary before letting it fall away. The heat from his hand lingered even longer, warming Billy through long after the pressure was gone.

Teddy glanced at him from under half-lowered lashes. "You okay?" he asked quietly, and it would feel so good to pretend that he was asking about more than just Billy's ability to breathe.

"Yeah," Billy nodded nonchalantly. "Never better." He grinned, just to prove it. Teddy smiled back, and didn't bring it up again. But when Billy leaned his knee carefully against Teddy's leg under the table, he didn't move away.

ooooo

No more screwing around. Yes. Today was the day. Billy was going to march in there, sit down at Teddy's station, and ask him to go out. No 'yeah maybes' to group things, or getting too scared to let the moment go by. And if Teddy said no, he could move on and get over this stupid crush for once and for all.

Because Teddy hadn't asked him to dance on Friday, but they'd spent the rest of the night with their legs touching under the table, and he'd brushed the back of his hand against Billy's too many times for it to have been accidental. He could be as nervous as Billy was; maybe that was why he hadn't taken the initiative. Or – shit. Maybe he had a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. But if so, that was like, the complete opposite of Cassie, who talked about Jonas endlessly but never seemed able to physically produce the guy.

Either way; once he got an answer, he could stop the fluttering and painful squeeze in his chest when he came into the shop, the fizzy anticipation that bubbled up in his stomach and his veins when he walked down the street towards the door, the way he lay in bed imagining Teddy's shoulders above him, the firm lines of his stomach and arms tight under Billy's hands, the-

"Get out of the way, asshole!" Billy jumped to the side to avoid being trampled by the run of other people getting off the train. This was getting dangerous; he was losing track of everything but daydreams, and if he got hit by a car while fantasizing about Teddy, it would be his own damn fault.

The shop bell jingled when he pushed the door open, and he waved at Cassie. Tommy had his head down, absorbed in doing linework on a jock-kid's sternum. Kamala perched on a stool behind America while America free-handed a design at the light table, chin in her hands and a look of abject adoration on her round-cheeked face. "Teddy's out back!" Cassie called, and Billy's cheeks went hot. America snorted a laugh, but Tommy didn't look up.

"Thanks, Cass. Really." He went anyway.

Teddy sat sprawled across the back steps that led down into the alleyway, back against the railing. He wasn't alone. Eli stood beside him, arms resting casually on the railing, and Noh was passing over a half-smoked joint. Teddy took it before he looked up and over, his eyes lighting up when he saw Billy.

Eli pinched the rolled cigarette out of his hand and Teddy scrambled to his feet. "Hey," he said, and a smile spread over his face that sent hearts and balloons popping inside Billy's chest and circling around his head. "Uh," Teddy said, leaning casually on the railing. "What's up?"

Eli coughed and choked, flapping his hand to clear the sickly-sweet smoke from his face. He held the joint out to Noh but Billy intercepted, running on nothing but impulse and that fluttery panic that seemed to settle over everything whenever he looked at Teddy. Eli arched a sceptical eyebrow at him, that facial expression that said everything from 'what the fuck' to 'shyeah right' all in one neat, acerbic Eli-package.

To hell with it! Billy might not be Tommy, stealing beer from his dad in eighth grade and learning to smoke up behind the school dumpsters during free period, but he wasn't the straight-edge virgin they all pretended he was, either.

"Nothing much," Billy shrugged. He took a drag on the joint, the paper damp against his lips. _Teddy's lips touched this. _Heheld the smoke and let it sink into his throat, sickly-sweet and burning. He let it out slowly and passed the joint back to Noh, his heart beating so quickly – just from looking at Teddy, _God, _he was pathetic! – that he was sure they could all hear it.

"Just came by to hang out. I didn't know you smoked," he said to Teddy. Eli did, sometimes, Tommy and Kate as well, but there was a strict 'nothing in the apartment' clause that Tommy actually obeyed. Not even _he_ was dumb enough to do something where Billy's parents might randomly decide to stop by.

Teddy didn't seem phased, though a crease formed between his brows. "Sometimes," he said. "When someone else is paying," he joked, and Eli rolled his eyes. "Do you wanna-" he waved generally at the door.

Hang out with him inside? God yes. "Yes!" But what if he had clients? Billy didn't work weekends, but Teddy was supposedly on the clock. "Only if you don't-" The tickle of nerves forever sitting behind his forehead smoothed out gently, washed away in the taste left in his mouth.

"Nah," Teddy answered before he even finished. That warm, fuzzy-edged smile reached his eyes, all hopeful and soft. How could a guy who had been carved out of _marble_ look at Billy like he was a blanket that Billy could roll up in and sleep away the rest of his life? "I'm done for the day. Could use some company, though."

"And what are we?" Eli asked, but he was laughing, his knuckle pressed against his lip. Billy pushed the door open and held it for Teddy.

"What the hell was that?" Billy heard Noh ask Eli, as the door closed behind him.

"I don't think even _they_ know."

Teddy brushed his arm when he passed, a single fingertip touching the inside of Billy's elbow, a jolt that zapped straight up into the nerve center of his brain and set every skin cell on fire. He caught his foot on the cord for the electric fan and stumbled, narrowly missing falling flat on his face on the ancient, cracked and peeling tile on the shop hallway floor. Teddy stopped walking, his hand on the door handle of his room. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

Billy nodded, his face burning hot, as he tried to remember which foot he was supposed to be walking with. "Never better," he croaked, and wished he could die.

The room looked different than the last time he'd been back here, when he'd walked in on Teddy just moving in. There were pictures up on the walls now, artistic black-and-whites of 'metal stuff through people parts' interspersed with full-color shots of intricate piercing projects and one spectacular poster print of a dragon in flight. He'd left his iPod plugged into a set of speakers on the windowsill, a hoodie draped over the back of his chair, and a real pillow on his workbench. The whole room had a cozy lived-in energy that Nate's sterile white workspace had never had.

Teddy kicked the corner of a duffel bag back into the closet and shut the door, then sprawled out in one of the padded chairs with an easy, lopsided grin. _If he kissed me now he'd taste like pot smoke, sweet and warm and a little bit risky-exciting._

Billy sat instead, perching on the edge of the counter and trying to make himself feel as much at-ease as Teddy looked. A picture sat in a frame on his desk, another one of the black and whites. This one wasn't just nose rings and stretched ears.

It was hard to see detail in the dramatically-shot image, but the man in the photograph was definitely Teddy. He hung, facing away from the camera and silhouetted in the light of an arched window, his arms out and head bowed. There had to be half a dozen hooks through his skin, though the shadows hid the places where they pierced his flesh. Wires connected them to something up and out of frame and that was how he floated, there in mid-air, some kind of angel figure glowing in the rising sun.

"Woah." Billy picked up the photograph, turning it over in his hand before he could figure out the question he wanted to ask. "Is this you? This is you," he blurted out, trying to add that bit of information into what he knew about Teddy already.

"Yeah," Teddy answered, and he didn't seem embarrassed by the question at all. _Course not; he wouldn't put it on display if he was._ It was more than that, though; everything about him seemed unwound, like he spent his life in a coil of tension that had just been unlocked a couple of notches. Was it Billy's company, or just that he was high? "That was a couple of years ago. My first suspension."

"You've done that more than once?"

"Whenever I get the chance, Which isn't often," he added quickly. "Especially now."

"But didn't that hur-"And that was when he remembered the conversation in the club. "hah, right." Of course it did; there were big sharp pointy hooks through his skin. "So- why?" _Is it a sex thing? I don't know if I can deal with that if it's a sex thing. _

Teddy got quiet, then looked at Billy like… almost like he was handing over something precious, and he wasn't quite sure yet if Billy would drop and break it. "I like to fly," was all he said.

_Oh._

That explained it and didn't at the same time, taking the photograph out of the realm of 'sexual fetish I probably won't ever be able to understand' and into the world of 'never thought about it like that before.'

"Is that what it feels like?" Billy put the framed picture back down on the desk and leaned against the counter, propping his arms up on the edge. "Because I've gotta be honest with you., it looks more like some kind of torture technique from the Spanish Inquisition."

"Betcha didn't expect that," Teddy grinned wide.

It took Billy a couple of seconds too long to get it, and Teddy chortled. "Your father was a hamster," Billy told him, and Teddy laughed harder. "And your mother smelled of elderberries."

"Feeelthy English Keeee-niggit."

"Ni!"

"Eckie-eckie-eckie-eckie-"

Cassie stuck her head in the door, stared at them both, then left again. "They're casting spells or something. Don't even." And she closed the door behind her.

Teddy's laughter as they collapsed together was as warm and full of life as he was, rolling over Billy and through him like the rush of a river. Billy's own abs hurt and the room echoed with the mix of Teddy's chortles and Billy's deranged howling, until he was finally able to catch his breath. Teddy snorted, his cheeks turned red, and that set Billy off again.

"Okay, okay, uncle," Teddy wheezed, his face red. "Ow." Billy snickered, everything inside bubbling, fizzing and light.

"Try that again," Billy said finally, catching his breath. "How'd you get into all this?" he gestured vaguely around the room, his curiosity surfacing. _Tell me everything about you. Show me who you are._ "It's not the sort of thing you see at high school career fairs."

Teddy sobered up, and drew his knee up close to his chest, one foot balanced on the edge of his chair. He rested his chin on his knee, arms looped lightly around it, protective armor between Billy and his heart. "Not really, no," he agreed. "But I barely finished high school," he admitted, not meeting Billy's eyes. "My mom got sick," he added, quieter now. He toyed with the frayed edge of his jacket sleeve, his eyes down and his fair lashes almost invisible against his sun-golden skin. Billy's heart, already aching, fractured into a half-dozen pieces. "She died the summer of my senior year. I was only sixteen, so I had to stay in a group home."

"What about your dad?" Billy asked before he could stop himself, couldn't stop himself. He should know better, after Eli's stories, and Cassie's, so many of his friends with split families or old griefs-

Teddy shook his head. "He was Air Force; he died in combat when I was a little kid." His fingers stayed curled around his cuff, picking at the threads. It didn't look like he even knew he was doing it. "It was always just my mom and me after that. So school… didn't go so well. I finished," he added quickly, like he thought Billy was going to think worse of him for any of that, "but I sank any chance I had at a scholarship, or college entrance. And back then I didn't care that much, either."

Billy reached out, brushed the edge of Teddy's sleeve with his fingertips, but it wasn't his place – he was the lucky one – Teddy didn't look like he wanted – Billy should just leave well enough alone.

He wasn't particularly good at doing that.

"So what did you do?" he asked, and Teddy shrugged.

"I hit the road. Packed my gear up and hitchhiked for a while." He lifted his chin defiantly, like he was still expecting Billy to judge him, for any or all of it. "Worked some, mostly construction and stuff. Jobs where they only cared about who showed up on time and did the work. I hooked up with a bunch of guys who were travelling up and down the east coast doing tattoo shows and piercing demos and things. That turned out to be a lot more interesting than construction, so I apprenticed."

Forget judging him for it; that kind of life was something amazing. Teddy had done what everyone wanted to; get rid of everything, go off the grid, and just _be_ for a while, no parents-

Dammit. Billy kicked himself mentally. That hadn't been some kind of grand actualization adventure, Teddy had gone wandering because he hadn't had anybody, or anything to come back to. Except maybe now, taking a job in a shop, he was looking for something more like a home. Something Billy had always been able to take for granted.

Right. He'd been asking about hook-hanging – suspensions – before things got intimate. "And that's where you did these?" he nodded at the picture. Maybe he could get that relaxed, happy Teddy back, if he didn't pry?

"Yeah." Teddy's shoulders dropped and his pupils dilated again, finished with whatever crisis he was having. "With Greg – that's the guy who runs our – _that_ crew. We did a lot of conventions and booked events. There are a lot of people who wait all year for a suspension team to come around." He unfurled, dropping his foot back down and letting go of his knee. "And yeah it hurts," he gave a cock-eyed grin. "But only for a couple of seconds. Then there's this headrush when the endorphins kick in? And the crew pulls you up off the ground, and for a few minutes, you're completely, totally free. Not even gravity can touch you."

Billy was supposed to be good with words; where were the ones that could describe what he was feeling? Caught halfway between admiration, awe, discomfort… maybe a little nausea and confusion to make it a traffic circle instead of a crossroads. If he looked at just the right angle, now, he could see a couple of white scars on Teddy's arm, where his jacket cuff pushed up. Nothing exciting, just a little set of white dots that he hadn't noticed before, probably wouldn't if he hadn't been looking for them. "You sound like you miss it," he blurted out. "Why'd you come here? Not that this isn't a great shop," he added quickly, purely out of loyalty. "But it can't be more interesting than life on the road."

Teddy's shrug was back to 'uncomfortable,' and he looked away. "Time to move on," was all he said. "Time for a change. I've done a bunch more travelling than I thought I'd ever get to, and I learned a lot with those guys."

"Like ritual torture methods?" Billy tried to make a joke of it, tried to get that easy smile back on Teddy's face.

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "For starters, that I look lousy with a hobo beard." And that was definitely a lie, because there was no way he could ever look anything other than beautiful. But Billy couldn't say that out loud. "What about you?" Teddy was asking, changing the subject. "You and Tommy are twins, right? Why don't you have the same last name?"

That was easy, familiar territory, and Billy nodded. He wanted to know more – _why did you leave, will you leave here when you get bored with us, how can I make this place so good for you that you never feel that wanderlust again? _– but answered Teddy's question anyway. "We were put up for adoption as babies," he explained. The short version of the story, 100% less angst. "We ended up going to different families. My folks would have taken us both, but Tommy had already been adopted and the Shepherds didn't want me as well."

And it was just that easy, just that little bit of the luck of the draw, the flip of fate's coin, that had sent Tommy to Frank and Mary's dissatisfied, judgmental negligence, and given Billy to the Kaplans. His mom and dad may be overbearing, but they were kind and loving and everything, really, that he could have asked for in a set of parents. Even to Tommy, on the side.

"But our folks kept us in touch," he carried on talking, because Teddy actually looked interested. "We had playdates and stuff as kids, lots of sleepovers. Joint birthday parties. It's weird, but I guess it worked; we share a place now." He grinned. "Neither of us turned into a serial killer. Though sometimes I worry about Tommy."

Teddy snorted, and the softness was back around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. (Kissable mouth, Billy's treacherous brain interrupted.) "Tattoo artist is halfway down the road to serial killer, if you ask some people." 

"Pfft. Whatever. It's more interesting than 'intern,' I promise you. I spend more time fixing single pixels in someone else's mistakes than I do actually learning anything."

"Don't sell yourself so short, Billy," Teddy objected. "You're doing useful things. Working on books that could change someone's life, if they read them at the right time."

It was a nice thought, but somehow it didn't seem all that likely. "I think you're more likely to have a direct impact on someone's day," he objected mildly. "The guys keep telling me that's what mods are all about, aren't they? Changing the way someone sees themselves?"

Teddy's face wrinkled up funny, like he was pondering the suggestion, before he answered. "I think of it more as opening the door for someone to look like what they always were. A lot of this stuff is so personal, like epiphanies and life milestones - and I get to be a little part of that. I know this is going to sound weird, but- I like making people's outsides match their insides." He gestured in the air, his eyes a little too wide.

It was bad form to take advantage of a guy who wasn't entirely in his right mind, but the question burned on Billy's lips, curiosity eating away at him with every further description Teddy gave. He did this stuff for a living, spent all his time around people who dedicated their lives to changing people's bodies around. He had to have more than a couple of ear piercings and two little tattoos. Didn't he?

"I have to know," Billy blurted out, and Teddy's eyebrows went up. "How many do you have? More tattoos?" Where on his body? Had someone like Tommy drawn careful lines and images over Teddy's naked back, his ass, his thighs?

Graphic design had definitely been the wrong career choice.

"Uhhh," Teddy looked up at the ceiling for a second, obviously counting something in his head. "No other tattoos yet, but I'm talking to Tommy about stuff for my backpiece. Twenty-four mods, not counting my suspension scarring."

Five in each ear, lip, eyebrow- "I only see twelve," Billy said without thinking, and then boy, he was thinking. His face flushed hot.

Teddy grinned wide, his cheekbones and the tips of his ears turning red, and that was too adorable to be allowed. Especially when Billy was interrogating him about what was really a highly personal matter that he should have been a lot more polite about. "Twelve above the collarbone," he amended. Billy had what had to be an aneurism, bright colors and lights popping off in his brain.

"Where?" he asked, his breath catching. Teddy's pupils had dilated, and he was leaning closer, his body tipping so he was balanced on his elbow, barely inches away from Billy's arm.

"Nipples," Teddy said, like that was a normal thing and not possibly one of the hottest thing any guy had ever said to him, in any circumstance. His voice was low and gravelly, his lips full and parted. "Surface bars at my hips. And some other stuff. Prince Albert. Speedbumps."

"Oh," Billy said, because he didn't know any other words. No more words, buh-bye. _That was a dick one._ "Oh my God. Are you serious?"

Teddy grinned wide, held up a finger and waggled it at Billy. "That's as much as you get to know. I generally don't whip it out until at least the third date." Was he flirting? He was so totally flirting. _Teddy _ was _flirting._

Billy swallowed, hard, tried to regroup. "So your big epiphany about your insides included metal rings through your…" he gestured helplessly in a vaguely crotch-ward direction, and even he could tell that his half-way breathy question was a lot closer to 'show me now, I'm begging you' than 'you crazy masochist freak.' "Do … people… get weird about it?"

He shook his head, then paused, shrugged, nodded. "I guess? But a guy who can't deal with sparkly junk in general isn't going to be all that into me."

And a choir of angels began singing the Hallelujah chorus in the back of Billy's brain. "Wait right there," he held up a hand. "Guy? You're gay?" Just to be sure, please let him not have misheard. Bi would do too, mind you; bi would be good. Anything so long as he wasn't one of the world's few Kinsey zeroes. _I might just have a chance._

"Yeah," Teddy said, wary now. He cocked his head and frowned at Billy, his movements carefully exaggerated and precise. "Is that a problem? I thought you were-"

"I am. And no, it's not a problem. It's definitely not a problem." Billy was babbling. _God, shut up before you say something stupid!_ "It's the opposite of problem. Solution? That's not right. But, uh. Yeah. It's good." _Like that._

"You sure?" Teddy snorted, relaxing. He was definitely laughing at Billy now. "Because you look flushed."

"Nope. All good." Billy shook his head. "Except that I was wondering-" _DO IT._

"Yeah?"

The door opened, and Cassie stuck her head in again. Teddy sat back like he'd had an elastic cord cut, and the cool air rushed back in around Billy to wake him up out of his stupor. Teddy's mouth had been so close, his lips so pink and sweet. He had been just about to ask Teddy out and Teddy would have said yes, he was so_ sure_ Teddy would have said yes.

"Tommy's cleaning up now," she reported, "and we're gonna close. You guys coming?"

"In a sec," Teddy promised, and she wandered off again. "Sorry," he apologized, his eyes skittering away from Billy's face. .

"No, no, it's cool." Billy took a deep breath. "Did you feel like hanging out tonight?" Then, to be absolutely sure, his pulse thrumming faster in his chest than he had ever felt it before, and his tongue thick. "Just you and me, I mean. Not with the rest of the guys."

'Sad' was not how Teddy was supposed to be looking. "Is this a date thing?" he asked softly.

The crash down was just as fast as the rush had been, and Billy shrugged in an effort to save face. Like he hadn't been stupidly obvious. Fuck everything. "Depends." He pasted on a fake smile. "What do you want it to be?"

"I like you," Teddy said, just as sadly. "A lot."

"There's a 'but' coming."

"… Yeah." He nodded and Billy resigned himself to the usual speech. _I never did have a chance, gay or straight. _ "I'm not in a great place to be dating right now. In a couple of months, once I get some stuff sorted out-" And that wasn't how _that_ speech usually went, either. "I really like you. A lot. Billy, look at me?" Teddy pleaded, and Billy looked up. Teddy's fingers were coiled in his cuff again, and he flexed them out without paying attention. His bright blue eyes were pleading, hoping, _wanting_ – holy shit. "I can't ask you to wait around while I get my shit together, but-"

"Yeah," Billy said instantly, not waiting for the rest of it. "I can do that."

Teddy furrowed his brow, frowning. "Do what?"

"Wait. Call me nuts-"

"Nuts."

"Har," Billy said, sarcasm dripping as his mood climbed again. Today was a damn trampoline, that was what it was, and he was going to set aside time to have a really nice and thorough panic later on. "You know what?" He shook his head. "Changed my mind."

"You're not going to wait?" Teddy laughed, and reached out, so tentatively, to brush one finger against the back of Billy's hand.

"Nope." Billy popped his 'P' deliciously. "Next guy who walks through that door, gonna go out with him, get married, live happily ever after."

The door opened and Tommy barged in. "Aren't you assholes ready to go yet?"

Teddy started to laugh, the big butthead, holding his ribs in and his face turning red as he struggled for air.

Billy groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Should've seen that one coming."

Tommy tapped his foot impatiently, drumming his fingers on the doorframe. Teddy whooped with laughter one last time, drawing in a couple of ragged breaths. "I can lock up if you want, Tom," he offered. "I don't mind. If you guys have to go-?"

"You're still coming with me to Jeff and Rebecca's, right?" Tommy directed that at Billy, and he nodded.

"Yeah," Billy said reluctantly. "Nothing better to do." Teddy looked down, studying his toes. "Catch you later, Tee." Teddy nodded, and his eyes followed them as Billy joined Tommy and they headed out the door.

"You two engaged yet?" Tommy sniped, and Billy kicked him. "Jeez; lighten up, little brother. What's gotten into you?"

Billy made a face. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure," Tommy said, as they headed out the back door and down past the still-open Cash-for-Gold place next door. "Suit yourself. Just don't screw this up for us, alright? Eli gets even more annoying than usual when he has to try and replace staff."

"There's nothing to screw up," Billy protested, too hotly. Tommy grinned that stupid, familiar knowing grin.

"Sure, little bro. Suuuuure."

Sometimes, Billy wondered what life would have been like if they'd just been separated at birth and had remained blissfully ignorant.

ooooo

"He said he likes you, so what's the problem?" Kate nudged Billy's knee with her own, the metal grates of the fire escape landing rough against their backsides. She mouthed at her straw and made a slurping noise with it, Billy's own cup cool and damp in his hands. The city noises filtered up from the road, the night sky reflecting the yellow and red neon of the signs and lights. Home sweet home.

"It's the whole 'get my shit together' thing." Billy shifted, scratching his back against the brick wall behind him. How many hours had he and Kate spent hashing out their lives on this fire escape, or the balcony over at her much-lusher bachelorette pad? Not nearly as much now as they used to, before Tommy and Kate's drunken-hookup-turned-torrid-romance. "You don't think he's dating someone right now, do you?" Billy stabbed his iced coffee with his straw in irritation. "What else could he mean?"

"It's a new take on the 'it's not you, it's me,' speech," Kate nodded, affirming his suspicions. "But from what I can tell, he's a pretty straightforward guy," she offered kindly. "Don't you think he'd tell you right out if he had a boyfriend?"

"Honestly?" Billy frowned. "I'm not entirely sure. He runs hot and cold all the time. Sometimes, it's just…" he waved his hand in the air in frustration, the words not coming. "Magic. It's like we were made for each other, totally simpatico. We click like I never have before with anyone in the world. And then sometimes, it's like he's saying things that he thinks people want to hear, and his eyes aren't in it. That's not even counting the times he just gets weird and runs." Billy sucked on his straw morosely, the coffee-flavored ice shavings keeping him just on the edge of an ice-cream headache. "Did you know he's into some really weird stuff?"

"What, like Pokemon?" Kate snorted. He kicked her foot and she shoved him with her shoulder.

"No," he said, and almost said more – _like hanging from scaffolds with meathooks through his back_ – but stopped. Teddy had a picture of it on his desk, it wasn't like it was some big dark secret. But the look in his eyes when he'd explained – _I like to fly._

Billy kept his mouth shut.

"He said he has more than twenty piercings," he said instead. "He hitchhiked all over the states after high school. Where have I been? Disneyland. Paris with my parents. Europe and Israel once in high school. But that was a Birthright tour," he dismissed it, "so all we saw were death camps. He's been doing his own thing for years and I'm still depending on my parents to pay rent. What would he ever see in me?"

He looked up at the silence that followed. Kate was staring at him disdainfully over the rims of her sunglasses, now sitting on the end of her nose. "Do you ever listen to yourself? 'Oh, my life is hard," she clutched her chest dramatically. "My parents love me so much that they take care of me while I intern, oh woooooooe.'" She smacked him in the forehead with the heel of her hand, her skin cool from her icecap. "Dummy."

"Thanks for the reality check, _Miss Bishop_," Billy smarted back, rubbing his forehead in her general direction. "Speaking of spoiled trust fund babies." A car honked at something on the street and a burst of profanity followed. On the topic of worlds that shouldn't mix; he'd been mostly joking, but it was a fair question. "You and Tommy," he started. "How does that even work?"

She didn't take the answer seriously at all. "He's one hell of a kisser," Kate grinned wide, waggling her eyebrows. "And he can get me free tattoos."

And then a thought, which was terrible, horrible and all-around no good, very bad. Eli ran _Patriots_', but Tommy was a co-owner. "What if he's afraid to say no because he thinks I'll get him fired?" Billy said with dawning horror. "Did I sexually harass him? Maybe he's being standoffish because he thinks I'll bitch to Tommy if he says no."

Kate's scathing look was enough to settle that worry, and he shrugged. "More likely," she grinned, "that he's in the witness protection program. I'll bet you that he has to testify in a major trial next month, and he wants to keep you safe and uninvolved until the criminal has been put behind bars."

"Very funny, Katydid."

She laughed at him, then flipped up her glasses again and raised a finger. "Running from the mob," she announced. "Except instead of joining an orchestra, he's hiding out among the counterculture. Very classic Hollywood."

That was a slightly better fit, but still ridiculous. Billy snorted, and Kate looked smug. "Does that make me Joe E. Brown," Billy asked, "or Marilyn Monroe?"

"With your legs? Marilyn, no question."

"Thanks, I think."

Kate pursed her lips. "He _is _ the mob," she suggested, and he rolled his eyes at her. "A made man, and he's trying to keep you from being sucked into his underworld of drugs and crime." The laughter came easily this time, each of her suggestions more ridiculous than the last. Which was the idea, he supposed. She kept talking. "Those Russian guys next door are seriously shady. Clint needs to buy a building in a better neighbourhood."

Yeah, like the shop's landlord could just pick up and buy property in midtown because he didn't like the neighbours. "We're not all Bishops you know; we can't just buy better buildings when the mood strikes us," he pointed out, and Kate shrugged.

"Well then, he needs to get on that." They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Kate slowly leaning sideways into him until he got fed up with her weight sinking down onto his shoulder and poked her in the ribs until she sat up straight again. "He could just be skittish," she said eventually.

Billy frowned. "Clint's skittish?"

"No, dumbass. Teddy. Sometimes bad shit happens to people and they need a little time to get over it." She looked distant for a moment, and he squeezed her knee, knowing where her mind had gone. "It could be any one of a hundred different things. But," Kate scruffed his hair without warning, sending his bangs tumbling into his eyes. "I'm willing to bet that by the end of the summer, you two will be exchanging a whole lot more than 'Holy Grail' quotes and longing looks."

"From your lips to God's ears," Billy said immediately, in Bubbe Rose's thick accent. He even added in a little 'talking with his hands' to add to the yiddishkeit. "Seriously though," he sighed, and settled against the wall once more. "I have this hunch that Teddy and I could be really good together. I just need him to see it, too."

ooooo

"Where's my other earring? Tommy?" Kate's voice echoed out in the apartment.

"Why would I have it? I can't wear eighteen-gauge and hoops look dumb." A thump echoed through the floorboards. "On me. Hoops look dumb on _me_. If you're gonna keep sitting there, we could do things that are a lot more fun than a headlock."

Billy stared into the bathroom mirror and ignored the noise outside the half-open door. Eyebrow? No; that looked a lot dumber on him than it did on Teddy. He popped Kate's earring off his brow and frowned. Nose? Definitely not. It was against the rules at work, anyway. And what happened when you sneezed? Boogers on earrings sounded like a bad idea all around. Lip, then. He sat the ring down over his lip, pushed it off-center, and made faces at himself. That… wasn't bad, actually. Kind of sexy. A little bit badass.

And he could hear his mother's voice now, 'after all those years of braces, William Mordechai Kaplan, and you _paid_ to have someone _erode your gumline_?'

It would definitely be sexy. Also definitely not worth it.

Earlobe, then. He pushed the little gold hoop onto his earlobe and cocked his head to get a better look in the mirror. Easy, right? Little kids got it done all the time, and if he wasn't braver than a six year old, he may as well lie down and die right here.

He caught a glint of white in the mirror, and frowned at Tommy.

"Go away," Billy muttered at him, but Tommy ignored him, as per usual. He came further into the bathroom and grabbed Kate's earring, pulling it off Billy's ear and straightening out the hinge part again.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Tommy said, "but dude. Just ask him out, already."

"I did that," Billy replied, glum. "It's complicated. Apparently."

Tommy shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the doorframe. "And the way to make it less complicated is by getting piercings?"

"It works for some people," Billy mumbled. Then, "it's not about Teddy; I've been thinking about it off and on for a while. Aren't you sick of having a boring brother hanging around all the time?"

"That's not going to make you any less boring, bro. You'll just be uncool with a sore ear."

"Thanks so much."

Tommy paused, a thoughtful look on his face and a gleam in his eye. He put Kate's earring back up against Billy's earlobe and examined it with a critical eye. "No, you know what? It's not half-bad. You should definitely do it. But not this crappy little mall-shop size. Tell Teddy you want a guiche done at ten-gauge. That'll be big enough to look right."

"A what?" Billy blinked.

"That's standard terminology, dork. Earlobe. Get with the program."

He really should have Googled it.

If Tommy's grin hadn't been the first clue, the way he managed to keep Billy from mentioning it to Kate should have been the biggest red flag on the planet. But he'd been so focussed on getting used to the idea in his head, at looking at his ear from different angles in the store windows, in wondering what it would feel like, or if he'd feel anything at all – that he didn't give it nearly enough thought.

Obviously, the answer was that Tommy was going to have to die.

"You want a what?" Teddy stared at him across his padded workbench in the back room, his eyes wide. Something had obviously gone horribly wrong. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Billy answered, suddenly not sure at all. "Why not?"

"That's really intense for a first piercing, Billy. Are you sure you don't want to start with something a little, you know. Easier to heal?"

"Wait," Billy fumbled. "But I see you do those on…" Teddy cocked his head. "Kids?" Teddy shook his head slowly, looking horrified. "All the time?"

"No, absolutely not," Teddy said firmly, in a tone that brooked zero argument. "Plus, don't you sit down at work all day? Talk about uncomfortable, not to mention high rejection risk."

"Wait a second, hang on. What does sitting down have to do with ears?" Billy asked hotly, feeling confusion give way to that dawning sense that total, utter humiliation was just around the corner. The parade of expressions marching across Teddy's face didn't do anything to stop the sense of total impending doom.

"Let me guess," Billy resigned himself to committing hara-kiri, right here, right now. "This is called 'I'm going to have to kill my twin and find somewhere to hide the body.'"

Teddy nodded. "Unless you're really as into getting a barbell through your taint as you think you are," he said, as kindly as he could.

Billy's face rushed firey-hot, then cold, and he slid slowly down the wall. Sitting under the table until he could recover sounded like a brilliant idea; it would take him out of Teddy's line of sight, and the tile floor was nice and cool under his hands. Maybe he could just lie down there and die, and then he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life not looking Teddy in the eye.

He only lasted a few minutes down there alone before Teddy was settling in beside him, his warm bulk nudging up against Billy's bent knee. "Tommy?" Teddy asked, and Billy grimaced. "Does he do that kind of thing a lot?"

"Nah," Billy huffed out a sigh and leaned his head back against the wall, his cheeks still burning hot. "Only when he thinks I'm making poor life choices. Brothers," he finished with a sigh and a lame-ass shrug. "You know?"

"Nope, Teddy said, and for a moment Billy felt like the worst person in the world. "Only child, remember? Just me and my mom in an apartment in Brooklyn."

"Upper east side," Billy muttered nonsensically, because at least it was a different subject. "Tommy grew up in Jersey."

"Ah," Teddy breathed out, as though that made something else make sense.

Billy squinted at him through one partly-opened eye. "That obvious?"

"Explains why you don't know a lot about dick piercings."

"Oh my God." Billy buried his head in his bent knees, but Teddy's warm chuckle was a soft, sweet benediction.

"It's cool, honestly. Look – if you want to get back at him-?"

Billy lifted his head. Teddy sat beside him in a cheerful mirror of his posture, the look of mischief sparkling in his eye. "How?" Billy asked, arching an eyebrow at the tantalizing suggestion.

"Pretend you really did get it done. I can do your ear in here, and walk you through the aftercare for the guiche out there. As long as you limp some when you leave, and don't sit down when he's around, we can probably keep him guessing. At least for a couple of hours."

The look on Tommy's face would be worth every second of having to remember to lurch around like he had a steel bar shoved behind his balls. "I'm in."

Teddy rose smoothly up to his feet and held his hand out for Billy to take. His skin was warm, so warm and so soft, and fire roared along Billy's arms and made a beeline for his groin. He tingled everywhere, from the press of the muscles as Teddy pulled him to standing, and the nearness of his body, his breath, the faint mint of what had to be his aftershave.

As soon as Billy was on his feet, Teddy was gone. He stepped out of the circle of Billy's personal space and popped open the cabinet standing against the wall on one side. He grabbed a bunch of stuff out of it; gloves, a bottle full of something that looked medicinal, a marker? And started setting up a tray with all his gear.

"I can do earlobes at pretty much any size," he said, and he was all business now, smiling, but in that hairdresser kind of way that had distance to it. "But eighteen is the standard if you want to wear store-bought earrings eventually. Which I don't recommend, for the record. That junk's full of mystery metal and the posts suck. Sixteen's your better bet to prevent jewelry from slicing through your earlobe like cheesewire."

"That's… incredibly gross." Billy brushed off the seat of his pants and watched as Teddy moved through his space. There was poetry to it, in a way; like watching Tommy set up to do stencils. That sure knowledge of his tools and equipment, the confidence that came with doing something so much that it became an automatic response. As natural as breathing.

"You've seen those old ladies in the mall, right? With the long, stretched-out ears from wearing heavy earrings too much?"

"You've been spying on my grandmother's bridge club, apparently. Sixteen it is." Choosing the jewelry was less complicated than he thought it might be. One gold ring later ("not real gold," Teddy told him. "Anodized titanium."), and Billy found himself sitting on the padded bench at the moment of truth.

Instead of going for the monster needle sitting in its package on the tray, though, Teddy rested one hand on the bench beside Billy and frowned at him thoughtfully. "Before I do anything," he said, soft and low. His gentle baritone flowed like smoke, stoking a fire deep down inside behind Billy's sternum. "Are you sure that you want this? Not because of Tommy, or-" he hesitated, only for a second, but it was definitely there. "Because you think you need to prove yourself to somebody?"

'Yeah sure,' Billy started to say, but Teddy's frown was serious. "Yeah," he said after a beat. "I've been thinking about it off and on pretty much since the guys opened this place. Nate – he was the piercer before you – offered to do it when he did Tommy's, but I never took him up on it."

"Changed your mind?" Teddy asked casually, reaching for the marker on his table.

Billy shrugged. "Maybe you seem like the kind of guy I can trust around sharp objects."

It probably wasn't a good sign that Teddy seemed to flinch, but he was leaning in, then, so close that Billy could turn his head just slightly, and he would be able to lick him. Billy's pulse raced, his heart pounding so hard that surely Teddy had to hear it; he was only an inch or so away from Billy's skin, and the blood pumping fiercely beneath the tender skin of his throat.

The marker's touch was feather-light, barely more than the faint pressure of Teddy's breath ghosting over Billy's throat. He couldn't breathe, every nerve in his body tingling with the awareness of the black hole of _Teddy-ness_ dragging him in and pulling him under.

"Here." Teddy's voice sounded odd, and he cleared his throat as he passed Billy a beat-up old hand mirror, the plastic handle scratched and worn. "Make sure you like the placement."

It was a black dot in a spot where it looked like an earring would fit. Was he supposed to see more there than that? Billy squinted into the mirror, closed one eye and then the other. "Looks fine," he said after a second, and passed the mirror back. Their fingers brushed during the handoff and Billy leaned in, despite himself.

"You're going to have to keep still for this part," Teddy warned him, drawing the blue latex gloves down over his broad, capable hands.

Right. Because this wasn't sexy for Teddy, it was just another day at the office. And maybe Billy was being weird and gross, letting his attraction run away with him. Like guys who got boners during massages, or something. Except Teddy seemed to be having a hard time looking him in the eye, and when he did, he took a long time to look away again.

And the needle was huge. Huge and shiny and _big._

"Just don't look," Teddy advised him, even as all of Billy's internal organs tried to curl up around each other. "It looks worse than it will feel," he continued, that vibe between them dimming to be replaced with his easy patter. "I put the needle through, follow with the jewellery, and you're done."

"Right," Billy said. He wanted to sound totally casual, but it came out as a bit of a squeak. _Dammit._

Teddy leaned in, so close that his lips brushed the edge of Billy's ear, soft and dry, with the barest puff of warm air on his tingling skin. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"What?" Billy blinked.

Teddy grinned, his eyes alight. "Do you trust me?"

And there was no appropriate response to that other than giving him the royal stink-eye treatment. "You are not making me be Princess Jasmine."

"Fine then, big man," Teddy laughed softly, the needle in his hand and thankfully out of Billy's peripheral vision just enough. "Deep breath in, then breathe out."

He was so close now that Billy could almost name his aftershave, feel the huff of his breath on Billy's cheek, his gloved fingers holding Billy's earlobe steady. He breathed in. Nothing happened. He breathed out, felt a quick, rough pinch to his right earlobe, but the pain never came.

Billy braced himself. "Are you doing it?"

"It's done." Teddy fumbled with something, right beside his head, brushing skin against skin. The pain bit for a second, sharp and stabby, before it faded into a faint, distant throb. A head rush hit him next, a burst of something that fuzzed out his brain for just a second, made his temples feel fizzy. There was a clink that Billy vaguely recognized as the sharps bucket, and the slap of gloves coming off. He opened his eyes as Teddy reached for the mirror again. "Here," he offered it over. "See what you think.'

And there it was, almost like magic, the gold-colored ring, the ball in the middle to block the opening. That had been the sharp tug, then; Teddy closing the jewellery. He hadn't even felt the ring go in. "It looks great," he said, and he meant it. "I felt a bit woozy for a second, but it's going away now."

Teddy nodded, like he knew exactly what Billy was talking about. "Endorphin rush. Your body's realized it's been hurt, and releases chemicals that feel awesome to compensate."

"Is that one of the reasons people keep coming back? The endorphins?"

"Chasing the high, sure," Teddy admitted, not looking particularly concerned about the confession. He could have stepped away, gone back to his chair and chilled there, but he stood by Billy instead, one hand resting on the side of the bench. "It's part of it."

"Only part of it?" Billy asked, tipping his head upward to keep Teddy in sight. His ear felt a little sensitive, but no more than that. The earring curled neatly under his lobe, and he balled up his fist in his lap instead of grabbing for it to play with it. _Pinkie swear._ Of everything that had happened in the past few days, the certain knowledge that Teddy was feeling this too – that was what kept rolling through his brain, free and wild. _He wants to kiss me. He does. This will happen, if I'm patient. _"What's the rest?"

The deadpan expression on Teddy's face should have been more of a giveaway than his earlier smile, but somehow Billy had walked right into it. Teddy smiled, and the sun and moon were in his eyes. "For one thing," he said, brushing his hand lightly against Billy's shoulder, "you meet the _weirdest_ people."

"His face is going to be epic," Teddy said a few minutes later, as Billy practiced his wide-legged stance in the mirror. Teddy was sprawled casually over his backwards chair, arms crossed on the seat back and chin resting on top. "I can get a clip-on for you," he offered with a wide grin. "If you think if would help you get the feel for it."

Yeah, because there was no way that Teddy fondling his scrotum in the shop on a busy Saturday afternoon would ever end well. "I'll pass," Billy said quickly, and Teddy snickered. "If you want to get your hands on the goods, it's dinner first. At least."

Teddy snapped his fingers. "Shucks; my cunning plan, foiled." And the smile almost cancelled out the flush of melancholy that had come over him a moment before. "Ready?" he asked, standing and heading for the door. "Just remember," he said loudly, opening it to the shop beyond. "The sitz bath is your best friend for the next couple of weeks."

Billy did his best cowboy imitation, walking bow-legged as though he'd just had a massive needle and ring jammed through some of the parts of him he liked the best, feeling absolutely, utterly ridiculous as he did it. Eli stared, which was good, but then he heard it. Tommy.

"No. Nooooo. no. He did _not. Altman!_"

A grin spread wide over Billy's face as he pushed open the door of the shop and headed out into the bright afternoon sun.

_Hah! _

End Notes:

Suspensions are a real thing – .org. (warning – site contains graphic images). They are generally legal in North America, though I can't speak for laws in specific areas. No-one under 18 should ever be suspended, and it goes without saying that anyone interested in the procedure should get in touch with a reputable suspension crew and ask a lot of questions before consenting to the procedure.

From the suspension FAQ from :

Although individual experiences differ greatly, ultimately the act of suspension can be an euphoric floating sensation. On one end of the spectrum you find people that enter a trance like state, feeling no pain whatsoever, and bon the other end you find people that experience extreme pain, nausea and panic attacks./b In general, most people enter a shock-induced state of disorientation spiked with moments of pain and euphoria. In laymen's terms, the act of suspension causes the body/mind to enter a state of shock while being physically positioned and restrained in a "floating" state.

b The potential risks are significant, and include but are not limited to death, extreme shock, convulsions, dizziness, pain, bleeding, loss of consciousness, nausea, vomiting, scarring, and numbness./b

While Teddy's experience as described is one that is possible to find while suspending, the description should in no way be taken as representative of the results for everyone. bThis is an extreme procedure that causes physical trauma and permanent scarring./b

Only you can decide if a mod, play piercing or experience is right for you. Research before you make a decision.

ooooo

You may want to leave safe search on if you google 'guiche' in a public location. It's a piercing that passes through the 'taint,' behind the scrotum on male bodies, or sits on the perineum between the vaginal opening and anus on female bodies. It is far more commonly done on male bodies, due to anatomy and comfort differences.

ooooo

The legality of marijuana, of course, depends dramatically on your location and age. The gang here are breaking the law in New York state. Don't do that. *cough*


End file.
